


Like a silver bullet piercing through (I throw myself into you)

by Rori



Category: Bleach, Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, BAMF Grimmjow, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 23:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15828804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rori/pseuds/Rori
Summary: “So what brings you here, boy?”He’s young – younger than Grimmjow ever remembered being, his eerie amber eyes reflecting off the lit end of his smoke like a wolf’s would reflect the headlights of a car in the dead of the night.“I need your help,” he answered.And that's how it all started.





	Like a silver bullet piercing through (I throw myself into you)

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank the GrimmIchi discord server for everything ;) (and also apologize for any mistake I made)  
> This is a Devil May Cry AU, very very loosely based on the games' plot ; it can totally be read as a Demon Hunter!AU.

“How _the fuck_ did you find me?”

His new client eyes him, unimpressed. 

“You put an ad in the paper.”

“… True.”

He fingers the rim of his empty glass, letting the ashes of his third cigarette fall to its bottom.

“So what brings you here, boy?”

He’s young – younger than Grimmjow ever remembered being, his eerie amber eyes reflecting off the lit end of his smoke like a wolf’s would reflect the headlights of a car in the dead of the night.

_(whatever’s looking back at you is no more human than we are)_

“I need your help,” he answered.  
  
“I’m gonna need more than that, ya know?” Grimmjow tells him mockingly, head cocked slightly to the side.

He won’t get anything out of that punk by asking gently – fucking edgy teenagers, he thinks while those irritating eyes bore into his own, barren of anything but a deep, relentless resolve. He isn’t gonna take no for an answer, and it’s precisely why Grimmjow crushes the lit end of his cigarette into his left eye.

It goes out with that small, muffled noise extinguised flames make.

“Gross,” the punk said, not even taking a step back. “But I’ve seen weirder shit, Jaegerjaquez. And I really need your help,” he insisted, throwing his wet jacket on the back of an armchair.  
  
“Sure, and I really need my receptionnist to stop fucking with me,” Grimmjow muttered, putting his glass back on his desk.  
  
“I’m ready to pay you whatever you want –”  
  
“There’s nothing I want more than you leaving my fucking office, boy,” he chuckled darkly, his smile showing more and more teeth.  
  
“No, just – just fucking listen to me!”  
  
“You are a pain in the ass, you know that? _Fine_ ,” he agrees with a groan, remembering his half-hearted promise to Neliel.

Paying the bills, _tch_ – such a human thing to do.

There’s a new cigarette in his mouth by the time Kurosaki sits in front of him, eyeing his every move as Grimmjow pats his pockets.

“Need a hand?”  
  
“Sure,” he agreed.

Kurosaki catches the lighter easily, running his thumb over the markings on its smooth metallic surface before flicking it on ; he leans over the desk, his eyes looking more yellow than amber so close to the wavering little flame.  

“Spill, Kurosaki,” Grimmjow said, blowing a cloud of grey smoke in his face.  
  
“I need to go Under,” he said, making a digusted face at the smell.

Grimmjow lets out a small puff of smoke, smiling wildly.

“Ya know humans ain’t supposed to go there, right?”  
  
“That’s why I want you to come with me, Jaegerjaquez.”

It’s still raining heavily outside ; _(it’s still june)_  ; and he loses himself for a few seconds, watching the fat drops racing each other on the glass plane of the window, wondering idly if this year, too, it’d taste like salt (tears) and iron (as warm as human blood).

“I’m gonna need _more_ ,” he insisted, turning back to Kurosaki who was still looking at him with his irrating, impossibly yellow eyes.  
  
“Money, or –”  
  
“ _Both_ ,” Grimmjow mutters, propping his feet on the edge of the desk.

That’s when he sees it, in the corner of one human eye – a shadow, gone as Kurosaki blinks.

“I need to retrieve something of mine,” he explained in a low voice, looking away.  
  
“How the fuck did it end up Under? Don’t fucking lie to me,” Grimmjow snapped at him, his fingers drumming a wild rythm on the surface of his desk.    
  
“I don’t remember, okay ? I don’t fucking remember a thing!” Kurosaki yelled right back, gesturing wildly at him, at the whole room, the whole fucking world ; his eyes go wild for a second, like he can’t contain the storm swelling inside of him anymore.  
  
“Woah, don’t fucking scream at me,” Grimmjow chuckled, almost letting go his cigarette.

Kurosaki calms down, sitting back in his chair, pouting like a petulant child.

“I wanna hear the whole story, don’t get me wrong...”

He blows out more smoke, and ends up crushing his half-smoked cigarette on the back his hand.

“So I’m gonna ask you one last time,” Grimmjow whispered, a low warning growl echoing his words. “How the fuck did you find _me_ , Kurosaki Ichigo?”

The boy closes his eyes, sighing deeply as the deep rumble of thunder resonates throughout the skies, the smell of rain growing heavier with every passing second.

“I may not be entirely human,” he admitted after a moment, slowly opening one eye, and then the other.

He looked predatory enough for Grimmjow to uncock the security of the gun hidden under the desk, the click very much audible in the eerie silence that settled between them ; _(does the june rain still taste like warm blood and salty tears ?)_

“After all, only demons can open your door – right, Executioner?”

 

 

 


End file.
